


How To Hold A Thief

by CalamityCain



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Intersex Loki (Marvel), M/M, Master/Slave, Possessive Thor (Marvel), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/pseuds/CalamityCain
Summary: A story of what was, and what is to come. A story of a bond both twisted and loving. A story set in the skies of Sakaar, but mostly in That Orgy Spaceship Everyone Loves.AKALoki whores himself out and Thor is not happy about it





	How To Hold A Thief

**Author's Note:**

> _I don't really know why I began this tale the way I did. It's weird but I like its weirdness, and I can only hope you do too._

They say a full moon is good for telling tales. On a night when the moon is full to bursting and lights the world with its silver flame, you may even go down to the well of the Norns themselves and ask the ancient sisters for a song.

The oldest, Urdr, may ignore you; for her ears and eyes guard the past and are not here to entertain you, mere mortal that you are. The youngest, lovely Skuld, may fling her bright hair in your face and laugh and talk only of dreams. It is likely Verdandi that you want; she who dwells in the present will – if you flatter her cleverly – spin you tales that are not only wondrous but true.

One precious tale she is about to bequeath to us now, so thank your good fortune that you are present to hear it. This is a story of Loki the Liesmith and Thief Among Thieves, and the stolen treasure he prizes above all. 

With the very first breath he drew, Loki sought to steal the only thing a babe can: the love of those who bore him. He was born to the Jötnar, the ice giants, but unlike his kin he was a tiny child: a runt, as blue-skinned and red-eyed as a jötun but with no other resemblance. It was this failure – to steal the heart of his mother who abandoned him, and that of his warlord father who left him for dead after defeat in battle – that only strengthened his resolve. So much that he willed his ice-blue skin and blood-coloured eyes into a shade and shape more pleasing to Odin, then King of the Æsir, whose one eye he successfully caught and who raised the child as his own.

But the affections of the wise and mysterious Odin waxed and waned; the old man’s core was unknowable, his love inconstant and unable to satisfy the icy hunger that gnawed at this strange babe. As he grew into a healthy lissom child, black of hair and fine of bone,  already he would show a prodigious skill for silver-tongued deceit and trickery. Yet, of all the fabulous treasures he would make away with, none could match that which he sought jealously to possess from a tender age: the heart of the mighty Thor.

Thor Odinson, prince of the Æsir, thunder wielder, warrior, would-be king, and Loki’s adopted brother. To him Loki turned when all the world could not satisfy that hunger of his. With him Loki fought and played and hunted and fought again. As he curled up in bed beside the larger boy, he reached in with his cold little fingers and curled them around the hot, strong, beating heart.

But what he did not know was this: the act would bind his heart and indeed his very soul to Thor as much as it bound Thor’s to his. Their opposing natures interlocked so perfectly that it seemed two missing halves had found each other, and in doing so refused to let go.

It was hence foretold by the Norns that when Loki attempted to overthrow Odin’s rule and spread the roots of his chaos across the nine realms, he would fail as long as Thor’s heart did not cease to beat. His successes would be many, but they would be short-lived. His tongue would spin lies whose intricacy rivalled the finest metalwork of Nidavellir’s dwarf-smiths, but in Thor’s grasp, with his tongue pinned by the thunder god’s, their knots would unravel immediately. 

When all others failed, by strength or wit or magic, Thor alone could bind Loki and subdue this prince among thieves – at least for a time. Thor alone succeeded in persuading him to steal the crown of Surtr that would allow them to command the beast-lord of Muspelheim; in turn, Loki alone would persuade Thor to wear a bride’s garb in the guise of the beautiful Freyja in a ploy to steal Thor’s hammer Mjölnir from the grip of the ice giants. 

They grew up intertwined as tree and vine; later, they grew apart and became as sun and moon, fire and frost. But always the threads of fate would sew them back together, however briefly. In his adopted brother Loki had unwittingly planted the seed of a bond beyond any he had known with his own blood kin. And Thor in turn would be bound by a need to pursue and possess him, his longing for Loki stronger than that even of a lover. 

Such is the tangled web these two would weave around themselves through the ages. Apart, they cannot resist each other’s pull. And when they are together, all the nine realms are alight with the threat of their combined force.

  

Oh, but _wait._ What have we here...?

Skuld has just now whispered into Verdandi’s ear. And what Verdandi has just heard, she is in a mood to impart. We are in luck; there is more than one tale to be told tonight. 

According to Skuld, the end of all things creeps near. Our story takes place at the beginning of the end, on a ship sailing through the land of the lost. Though some say it is really the land of the found....

 

 

**_Somewhere above the sea of Sakaar –_ **

 

The orange and egg yolk-yellow colour scheme assaulted his eyes. The overabundance of glitter-dusted genitalia was distasteful. But none could offend Thor worse than the sight presenting itself before him – one that compelled him to utter the words:

“Kindly remove your cock from my brother’s mouth.” 

The man replied: “On what? Pain of death?”

“I beg your _pardon?”_

“What’s your follow-up threat? Gimme a reason. I’m in the midst of a damned good time here, and after two years fighting for my keep I say I’ve earned it.” The thick dirty fingers (Thor shuddered to think where they had been) curled themselves in Loki’s ink-black hair. “Keep sucking, slut.”

And Loki, wearing nothing but smears of glitter and a pair of dark lace panties pulled halfway down his thighs, obeyed.

“Gods damnit, Loki!” He elbowed the thug in the face and pulled Loki away by  a fistful of hair. The latter gave a high yelp of pain that turned into a snarl. “You’re going to get us killed, Thor – ” 

Fists came flying, but Thor’s senses were keen now and out for blood. He made short work of the two, then three, blackguards that came at him. The surprised looks frozen on their unconscious faces made it clear they had expected the fight to last longer. As for the onlookers, they were simply relieved to be at ease to continue with their shenanigans. A few even threw inviting looks at Thor, which he ignored.

He reached out and grabbed Loki’s arm before the wily tramp could melt back into the orgy. “You look well, brother.”

Loki quailed only a little under the stormy glare. “I’m getting by. Staying alive.”

“Yes, I can see you’re fighting for your life.”

“There is more than one way to survive on this gods-forsaken planet, Thor,” he hissed. “Or more precisely, there are two. Fuck or fight. You choose the latter – do not judge me for choosing the...owww!” 

In two smooth, powerful motions, Thor twisted his arm before pulling him close enough that he could feel Thor’s heartbeat through his ribs. “Why exactly are you so keen on getting into the Grandmaster’s good graces?” 

When met with silence, Thor increased the pressure on his slighter sibling’s bone and sinew, squeezing out a gasp. “Hmm? Answer me. You don’t rent yourself out as a fucktoy for nothing, Loki. I wish to know your price.”

Before Loki could answer, a voice like honey and mulled wine interrupted.

 “Whoa, whoa, lovebirds, keep your pants on. Or off; make up your mind.”

Loki flushed pink and pulled up his panties. But the Grandmaster had already turned his attention to Thor. “Sparkles. Shouldn’t you be saving yourself for the fight tomorrow? You know the last party on this ship went on for two months. I wasn’t even here for most of it – can be pretty draining – ”

“Grandmaster,” Thor growled, “I will play in your petty gladiator games as I am bound to.” He touched the cold steel chip at his neck. Its spider-legs were embedded in his skin as deep as ever. “But I draw the line at my brother being used for your entertainment.” 

Loki hissed. “It is not up to you what I do with – ”

The Grandmaster merely shrugged. It was the most louche, unruffled, nonchalantly elegant shrug Thor had ever seen. “I’m afraid that while he may be your brother, he is my property.”

“ _Property?_ Since when?”

“Oh, some time yesterday.” The artfully be-ringed fingers beckoned with a gesture at once careless and deliberate. “Loki. Darling. Show him.”

The fading pink in Loki’s pale face returned with a vengeance. “I would rather not...” 

“I’m sorry. Do you have other obligations on your time and body? Other orgies you need to be at?”

A formidable woman appeared out of nowhere behind Loki. Swallowing hard, he allowed her to bend him over and push his legs apart with her sceptre. Thor made a fierce low sound but was held back by an electric jolt from the chip shooting up his temple and threatening to sizzle his eyeballs. Only when he visibly backed down did it release him.

“There. You see?” The Grandmaster pointed at a small mark tattooed into Loki’s inner thigh, next to a very intimate place. “My sigil. No one so much as touches him without my permission.”

“He wouldn’t have willingly – ”

“He did.” The finger slid past the mark and beneath the lacy underwear. “I wouldn’t be so sure about your so-called brother’s unwillingness to do anything...or at least, many things. Both his cock and cunt answer eagerly enough.” The gold-ringed finger was stroking, moving in small circles, thrusting. Loki moaned. “Isn’t that right, pet?”

“Y-Yes, Grandmaster.” 

The hand that wasn’t busy with its ministrations smacked him hard on the ass. “Tell your dear brother that.”

Thor’s face and neck burned. His fists curled. He was furious; but he was also something else, besieged by another raging sensation in his chest, his gut, his loins. He wanted to tear Loki from their grasp. To squeeze the air from him till his head fell back and that milk-white neck bared itself, till Loki stopped fighting as he always inevitably did, very near swooning in Thor’s arms as he did in no one else’s...that low sly voice heaving and full of want... 

“Oh, but this is delightful.” The wine-and-honey voice was filled with glee. “You would fuck your own little brother, wouldn’t you?” He clapped his hands together. “Kinky siblings! Exactly what this ship is missing. Topaz, help me clear a space on the dais...”

Both Thor and Loki found themselves released. Although ‘released’ was not the right word now that they’d been wrangled into an even more compromising position. “Tell me it isn’t true,” Thor muttered as – to Loki’s protests – he pulled the latter close and slid his fingers down the panties, only to find that the lacy fabric was near soaked and what lay beneath hot, flushed, dripping. 

“Thor...I didn’t – I can’t help...” 

A slap reduced his next words to a whimper. Then the deep green eyes looked up at him with new lasciviousness. 

“Fuck or fight, brother,” he whispered. “Fuck or die. You get your wish. Do as you will.” 

Then their lips were locked, and Loki’s moans were spilling into his mouth. His at last to claim. 

“Never forget who you belong to,” he said. “Who you _really_ belong to.” 

In response, Loki’s nails dug in as he clung tightly to Thor.

 

~


End file.
